


No Girls Allowed

by thecookiemomma



Category: CSI: NY, NCIS, NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: nfacommunity, Crossover, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:30:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>#KateLives!  For Brian for his Secret Santa on NFA.<br/>AU where Kate doesn't die. Timelines for the shows probably don't line up.<br/>Summary: Tony follows a hunch. It annoys some people, but makes things<br/>better in the long run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [briwd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/briwd/gifts).



"I'm telling you, Tony, there's something creepy going on." Paula Cassidy ran her finger down the side of her drink, chasing a droplet of condensation. She watched the drip fall to the table, then looked back up at Tony with a glare.

 

"Hinky, _Cara_ ," Tony teased, already a little buzzed from the drinks they've been sharing. "The word you want is 'hinky.' That's the technical term for it." However, when she caught his eyes, he leaned forward. "Yeah? Tell me about it. I mean, I get the whole 'he's watching me' vibe. After all, I do work with Leroy Jethro Gibbs." He picked up his own drink and sipped it slowly. "No, what I want to know is when it happens. Where. Is there a pattern?"

 

"I'm not sure, but I'll start making lists and ..." Paula sighed, already trying to catalogue the incidents. She frowned at Tony's next words, though.

 

"Checking them twice?" She saw a hint of a stupid smirk on his face, and would have slugged him in the arm like Abby did if she hadn't seen the concern in his eyes. "Maybe we'll find out who's naughty and who's nice." This time, she did slug him. He deserved it after the lewd wink he'd given her.   
  


"I'm not Santa Claus, Tony." Paula sighed. He was just trying to improve her mood, and probably watch her six at the same time. She knew he cared for the people he worked with, and those he helped in the line of duty. Often, she couldn't tell the difference between a joke and a caring comment, but that could have just as easily been because of her own prejudices, too. Gibbs kept him on the team -- and with good reason. She gazed out the window, watching the December snow swirl around before hitting the ground. "It's just extremely unnerving."

 

"I get that, Paula," Tony rubbed his arm and leaned back in his chair, probably away from further repercussions. "This is the worst time for this to ... oh... shit." Tony's eyes widened as the information behind his eyes began to connect. Paula watched in morbid fascination. She'd heard rumors of Tony's ability to connect important pieces of information quickly, but had never seen it first hand.

 

"What, Tony?" Her voice sounded slightly frantic, and she gripped her glass a little too tightly as she waited for his response. She hated the way she sounded, but the adrenaline had already begun pumping through her veins. _"Flight or Fight_ ," Abby had reminded her once, and she felt both now. She could easily punch her way through the crowd at the bar, or hide in the women's restroom until things calmed down. She cursed under her breath and looked back over at Tony who was scribbling on a napkin.

 

"I'm not sure, not without the information you have, Paula, but you might have given us a big break on our white whale." Tony smiled sardonically. The whole agency knew about Gibbs' utter obsession with the man who had shot him in the shoulder. Paula was surprised that DiNozzo got the reference until she remembered that there had been at least one movie about it, if not more. She rolled her eyes and drained her drink.

 

"I'll go home and get that for you...oop..." She froze midsentence as Tony's demeanor changed.

 

"No. You won't. I want you to go pick a few things up at your house... hell, I'll go with you ... but I want you out of town. Tonight. Go visit your aunt in Philly. I'll get a couple of my guys from the force to watch over you. I'm not even joking, Agent Cassidy."

 

The switch from the goofy, fun-loving playboy to the hard-ass second of a Marine Special Agent was immediate and fairly frightening. "Uh, why?" She had to ask.

 

"He's targeting the women, Paula. I can't do that." Tony had told her enough about himself during the few times they'd slept together that she knew what he was saying. "And you _know_ Gibbs wouldn't be able to do that." Paula didn't know why, but Gibbs hated crimes against women and young girls worse than anything else. Worse than mass destruction, serial killers, or anything else. She suspected something had happened to him to make it extremely personal. She grimaced as she realized that this complicated an already fraught situation.

 

"Yeah. I see you're starting to get it. I know you're completely capable. Believe me, honey. I know how capable you are." He grinned again, and the switch was thrown back to goofy playboy. "But I don't want you hurt, and I know Gibbs doesn't either. I'll go talk to him after we get you out of town, and we'll get it squared away. Leave us with your contact info, please?"

 

Inwardly, Paula grumbled to herself as she thought through her options. She cursed out loud, regretting the drinks they'd already taken. "I'm not going to be able to drive up there tonight."

 

"Then crash with me. Wouldn't be the first time we've stayed together. Just long enough to sleep off the buzz and then you can go." Tony shrugged. "I'll even let you have the bed if you want it." Paula snorted, realizing it was a cheap offer. Until they got somewhere on this, neither Tony nor the other men on her team would be sleeping much at all. "Well, you'd get a chance to see the famous DiNozzo bachelor pad." He winked. "One-time deal."

 

"I accept." She rose, moved to pay, and walked with him to the cab that would take them to her house.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony sat in the back of the cab, his hand tapping gently on his thigh as he thought. He looked out of his window, free hand reaching up to tighten the scarf around his neck. He hadn't been back to work for long, and this mess from Paula had bothered him considerably. He coughed at the memory of his recent experience, and sighed. He waved off the driver's queries. "I'm not contagious, don't worry..." He closed his eyes, trying to think of warmer things. He must have dozed off, because he felt the car stop. "Mm-whu..."

 

"We're here, man," the driver called, and Tony was pretty sure he'd called him at least one other time.

 

"Sorry. Been a long day. It'll probably be an even longer night." He opened the door, pulled out hsi bilfold and paid the cabbie in cash. "Thank you. Sorry about being such good company, there." He snorted.

 

"It's alright. It's that time of year. You'd be surprised how many people end up dozing off in my cab. Especially after they've had a drink or two. Have a nice night!" Tony nodded to the driver and moved to step inside his boss' house.

 

"Boss?" Tony called, unbuttoning his jacket a little. He'd found that quick changes of temperature made him cough almost as much as the raw cold air.

 

"Downstairs," Gibbs called, and Tony rolled his eyes, muttering about being able to guess that. He walked down the stairs and sat down on the step he'd claimed as his own.

 

"Boss, we've got a problem. I can't prove it, but let me lay it out for you." He leaned back, sliding the scarf from his neck and wrapping it around his hands as he thought. "I was out drinking with Paula."

 

"On a school night?" Gibbs quirked a brow and scowled.

 

"You tell me how much we're gonna be doing tomorrow. Not the point. Well, part of the point."

 

"Get _to_ the point, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled.

 

"Getting to the point, Boss," Tony muttered. "She's been feeling like someone's watching her." He looked down to his scarf-covered hands and sighed.

 

"She's not bad lookin', DiNozzo..." Gibbs started.

 

"No, not like ' _ooh-la-la,'_ Boss. More like ... well, like you probably made people feel..." Tony looked up, hoping to make his point clear. He cursed the fuzziness of his brain.

 

"In someone's sights." Gibbs looked at him intently, seeming to take everything in. "You're buzzed, aren't you?" At Tony's nod, he sighed, wiping his hands on a red rag and moving to the stairway. Tony stood up, wobbled slightly, and stepped out of the way. Gibbs looked at him again, and smirked. "You had anything to eat yet tonight, or just booze?"

 

"Just the booze, Boss." Tony tilted his head. "Say that three times fast."

 

To Tony's amused surprise, he did. "C'mon, I've got a couple steaks in the fridge, and you can lay this out for me. Little bit of food and coffee will get you thinkin' straight again."

 

"Oh, that'd be perfect, Gibbs." Tony nodded and followed his boss up the stairs, stuffing his scarf in his pocket.

 

They sat on the couch together while the steaks cooked. Gibbs served them up and then moved to sit back down next to Tony.

 

"Thanks, Boss," Tony grinned.

 

Gibbs nodded. He lifted his fork to his mouth, and then paused. "So, explain this to me. She felt watched, but it wasn't the appreciative kind."

 

"I got to thinking, and it wasn't that far of a stretch," Tony started, his coffee cup in his hand. He'd taken his jacket off and sat down, waiting for his head to clear to be able to explain this well. "You remember the profile on our white whale?"

 

Gibbs grunted. It was pretty clear that he did. He pored over it between cases, and even while the others were looking for leads sometimes.

 

"Well, part of that got me to thinking. He seems to have something in common with you, Boss, except it's sort of twisted and dropped on its head." Tony held up his hand to forestall the glare he had known would be coming.

 

"Not much, mind, because he's an evil dirtbag of a douchehead, and you're ..." He shrugged, stopping his Abby-like rant and sighed. "He has a thing about women. He seems to fixate on them. You do too, at times."

 

Gibbs growled, but Tony held up his hand again.

 

"No, hear me out, Gibbs. Because you do. Not in a bad way, but you tend to focus on women and kids. Every one of us has noticed. We just count it among your quirks." Tony had checked out his boss before he had jumped ship, and knew his big secret. He didn't say anything because it wasn't something Gibbs would ever talk about, but he knew it made a difference. Everyone else, though, just assumed it was either a 'Gibbs thing,' a 'Marine thing,' or just a random quirk.

 

"Give you that," Gibbs muttered, falling silent for a few moments. They ate silently and then Gibbs grunted again. "So, he hates women?"

 

"Don't know about _hates_ , Boss, but he does seem to target women. I think he's trying to teach a woman a lesson. His mother? His sister? A wise old aunt who beat him? I don't know." He shrugged, and Gibbs glanced over at him in slight surprise. "Just a gut feeling."

 

"So, what do you wanna do about it?" Gibbs frowned.

 

"I already sent Paula up to stay with her aunt in Philly. I've still got a few friends on the PD, and they can watch out for her for a few days. It does them good to have a 'grunt-work' assignment for the beat cops who start to think they're all that and a cheesesteak." He snorted.

 

"You think we oughtta make all the women go?"

 

"Maybe? Either they go for a while or we set up protection. Neither option's gonna make any one of them happy." Gibbs agreed to Tony's words with a grunt of assent.

 

"Todd's gonna kick your ass for suggesting this."

 

"I'll let her if she makes it through this without that bastard doing something to her." Tony held up his hands in a salute. "Scout's honor, Boss, if I didn't think this was a real thing, I wouldn't have brought it up."

 

"Know that, DiNozzo, or I wouldn't even have let you start rambling about it." Gibbs sighed. "I'll talk to Tom tomorrow."

 

"Tom Tommorow," Tony mused, about to say something more. Gibbs reached over and gently cuffed the back of his head. "Yes, Boss," Tony grinned.

 

"You're crashing here."

 

"Yes, Boss," he repeated.

 

* * *

 

 

Gibbs strode up to Tom's office, giving a quck "Shave-and-a-haircut" knock before entering. Tom's belated "Come in, Gibbs" made him grin.

 

"Mornin', Tom." Gibbs eased himself down into the seat. "Got somethin' I wanna run by ya."

 

"I figured," Tom replied, drolly. They both knew that Gibbs wouldn't have headed up to Tom's office if he didn't have a very good reason. "So, lay it out for me."

 

"Our bastard may be targeting women." Gibbs started with the main point.

 

"The one that shot you?" Tom clarified. Gibbs snorted.

 

"Yeah. That bastard." To be fair, they dealt with a lot of bastards in their line of work.

 

"Okay. Two questions. How do you know?" Tom tapped one finger with the other, and then continued, doing the same for his second finger. "What do we do about it?"

 

"DiNozzo." That was Gibbs' answer to the first question.

 

"DiNozzo?" Tom looked understandably confused.

 

Gibbs leaned forward and explained what his SFA had discovered. "Could wait around to see if she was hallucinating, but I don't wanna take that chance, Tom. If he's after our girls, we've gotta do somethin'."

 

"I agree." Tom was old enough and had been around enough that having women out in the field was still a new thing. He was almost as chauvanistic as Gibbs himself. "So, what's the plan?"

 

"TDY 'em." Gibbs shrugged.

 

" _All_ of them?" Tom sounded incredulous.

 

"Maybe not every damn one, but the highest profile teams... Mine, Cassidy's, Yates, and Abs..." Gibbs listed a couple other names.

 

"They're gonna shit bricks, you know that, right?"

 

"Yeah, I do. That's why I thought maybe we could send 'em off for specialized training."

 

"Tenuous and see-through, Gibbs." Tom groused.

 

"Got a better idea?" Gibbs groused right back.

 

With a long, deep sigh, Tom shook his head. "No, I don't. And if he's targeting them, I don't want them around. God. I feel like I'm ten years old again." Gibbs cocked a brow in confusion, and Tom explained. "Hanging a 'No Girls Allowed' sign on the door. And just in time for Christmas. What a Charlie Foxtrot."

 

Gibbs grunted his assent, and tilted his head, asking if there was anything else Tom needed from him.

 

"Go on, get started on your day. I'll figure this mess out. Let me tell them, please."

 

"Don't envy ya that job, Tom." Gibbs couldn't resist the smirk that crossed his lips.

 

"Shut up, and get to work," Tom growled, but Gibbs knew he was half-kidding.

 

Gibbs stood up. "Bitch, bitch, bitch..." He grinned, and waved, heading out the door. He gazed down over the railing, listening to the team arguing with each other. As per normal, he waited until he had a perfect entrance before stepping down the stairs, coffee in hand, and interjecting himself into the conversation. Some days, it paid to be the Boss. Other days, it did not. He spared a quick, sympathetic thought for Morrow before he strode to his seat. "Do I need to add to your paperwork? There are those requisition forms that need filled out. Just has to be an agent..."

 

"No, Boss," they all chorused.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Henrietta Lange grabbed her carry on luggage and stepped off the plane. "Thank you," she nodded to the attendant as she passed. Her team did the same, she was pleased to note. That was one of the few things they had done in the past few hours that _had_ pleased her. She knew it was merely travel-weariness, but her temper was starting to get the better of her.

 

Behind her, Hanna and Callen were continuing their argument about some small piece of minutia. She sighed and rubbed her head tiredly. Behind her, Kensi was telling Dominic about something or other, but she was speaking much more quietly than the other pair.

 

"Come along, Ducklings," she spoke up, her voice carrying above the argument.

 

"Did she just call us ducklings, G?" Sam asked, incredulous.

 

"I think she did." Callen sounded amused. Hetty rolled her eyes and walked toward where a man stood holding a sign for her.

 

"I am Henrietta Lange, and this is my team. Shall we?" She gestured toward the baggage claim. "Get your luggage, children."

 

"Children?" Sam sounded even more incredulous.

 

Hetty just snorted and grabbed her bag. They all followed her to the van. As they strapped in, the man turned to them. "I'm Detective Danny Messer. I'm supposed to take you to see the bossman. Agent Todd's already here." Hetty nodded, and the blond man fell silent.

 

She looked out the window and watched the snow fall. It was late December. "I still maintain you could have stayed with your wife and child, Mister Hanna."

 

"Do not give me that, Hetty. Chelle knows I need to stick with my team. They'll be fine." Hetty caught Sam's stubborn glare in the rear view mirror.

 

"Very well," she conceded. Privately, she was glad the whole team was together.

 

The team was silent through the rest of the drive, and Hetty was grateful. She shifted in the large seat and pulled out her cell phone, checking her messages. After she'd made sure everything was still in ship-shape and running order, she turned to observe their driver for a few moments. Slender and blond with thin glasses, Detective Messer reminded her somewhat of Mister Beale, minus the board shorts and everpresent grin. She realized she missed their tech, and wished he would have come along. But he had prior plans with his family for the holidays, and she couldn't think of a reason for him to come. If they needed him, she knew how to get a hold of the young man. Her musings were interrupted when they pulled into the parking lot of the precinct.

 

"We're here," Det. Messer turned the vehicle off and unlocked the doors. "Leave your bags in here. We'll use the same van to take you to the hotel later." The team complied, after reaching in and getting their various electronics.

 

"Is MacKenna around?" Hetty followed their host to the building, tightening her coat against the cold New York air.

 

"You're one of the few people that gets away with calling him that, ma'am." Messer grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes. "Yes, ma'am, he's here."

 

"Hetty," Hetty turned, and MacKenna himself stepped out, and drew her into a hug. "Come on in. I've got some good coffee brewing, and I have hot water and tea." He smiled. "How was the trip?"

 

"It was ... tolerable," Hetty admitted. "Other than having to listen to the children argue. But I would be listening to that anyway, so it was not a great loss."

 

"See, G, she _did_ call us children." Sam gestured to her, and then stepped in to shake MacKenna's hand. "Sam Hanna."

 

"Mac Taylor." The other introductions passed swiftly, and soon they were seated around the table in a conference room, much like the one at NCIS headquarters in DC.

 

"So, Gibbs sent you all up here to..." MacKenna started to speak, and then the door opened again. "Ah, Agent Todd. Good. Come in and sit down." Caitlyn did as she was asked, and Hetty nodded her greeting to the younger woman. Caitlyn nodded back, and MacKenna began again. "Gibbs sent you all up here to train with us for a few days. We do things a little differently than you do..."

 

Hetty knew that the real reason they were sent to New York was to get them away from their usual places of work for a week while the men of DC dealt with a terrorist threat. The other women knew it too, but this little fiction enabled all of them to do as they'd been ordered without complaint. For the most part. Caitlyn and Kensi both had cried 'most foul' at the plan, but after the explanation, they fell in line. A large portion of the reason all of them did was the training they would get here. She sat back in her chair and listened to MacKenna's orientation information. It was going to be a long week. Of that she was sure.

 

* * *

 

 

Kate leaned back in her chair. "I mean, I know _why_ they sent me here, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. I don't. I feel like I'm leaving a team member behind, even if they were the ones to ask me to leave and ..." She gestured a little, glad to have found a confidant.

 

Jo grinned. "Ah, yeah, it doesn't take much sometimes to get the frustration going. I know. Working with these ..." She frowned. "They're good guys, but geeze. The machismo could make my great uncle Diego wince."

 

"You too, huh?" Kate shared a knowing glance with the other woman. She stirred sugar into her coffee cup. "I swear. Sometimes, it gets worse when they put the badge on." She rolled her eyes.

 

"Well, you do have to admit you like that protectiveness in other situations." Jo grinned and sipped at her coffee.

 

Kate agreed with a hum, and they fell silent for a few minutes, content to sit quietly and drink their coffee.

 

"So. Chica. I should teach you a few things while you're here." Jo began tearing her cup apart after she drained it. "It sounds like you've got the crime scene stuff down. I should teach you some of the stuff _I_ do. That'll help you know what you need to give your own lab geeks."

 

"Lab Goth, actually." Kate's memories of Abby made her smile. "She's the best at what she does, though. But, yes, it would be good to at least have an idea what I can give her to do."

 

"Lab ... Huh. That's different." Jo finished tearing up the cup and threw it away. "Well, come on. I'll show you what I do."

 

"Sounds like a plan. I know the main thing was trying to keep me out of the way of the guy I should've stabbed."

 

"Oh, honey, you have _got_ to tell me this story." Jo nodded toward the door, and they walked together to the lab. Kate would tell her that story. Probably.

 

* * *

 

 

Mac Taylor sat down at his desk, rubbing his temples. "Stubborn woman."

 

"That's redundant, actually." Mac startled and looked up at the voice. _G Callen,_ his memory supplied. Hetty had warned him not to ask about the _G_ , though Mac was very curious.

 

"What's redundant, Callen?" Mac asked, smirking. He had a feeling he knew what the man was going to say, but he wanted to hear him say it.

 

"Stubborn woman. Especially when it comes to NCIS agents." Yep, Mack had been right.

 

"Or New York Police Officers." Mac was willing to admit that Stella and Jo fit right into that category.

 

"So you've got a couple of those too?" G's smirk matched his own.

 

"Yep, you could say that." He shook his head. "Coffee?"

 

"Wouldn't turn it down, no." G settled himself into the seat. "You know why they're actually doing this, right?"

 

"Yeah. On the one hand, it's a brilliant idea. On the other hand, your director has ... _chutzpah._ " He poured two cups of coffee and slid one across his desk to his visitor.

 

"That's one way to put it." Callen took the offered cup and took a long drink. "I don't think it was Tom's idea. It was probably Gibbs' idea. And yeah, that man ..."

 

"Brass. I know. I've heard of him." Between being one of the more effective agents in the DC area and being a fellow Marine, yeah, Mac had heard of him.

 

"Figures. Man's a force to be reckoned with. I ought to introduce you two some time. I have a feeling you'd get along well with each other." Callen toasted him with the cup, and Mac chuckled.

 

"Probably. _Semper Fi_ and all that." He leaned back in his seat. "So. Agent Todd seems to be getting along well with Jo. I'm not sure about what we should do with Agent Blye, though."

 

"I had thought perhaps that Detective Bonasera might wish to have a helper for the nonce." Hetty strode into the room, sitting down in the second chair, and glared pointedly at Mac, then over at the coffee. "And I don't like the word 'stubborn', Mackenna. I much prefer to be known as 'persistent.'"

 

Mac sighed and set about fixing Hetty a cup of coffee.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Ari Haswari sat up on the top of a roof, sniper rifle set up in front of him. He'd chosen his place well. Not only could he see the top of the nearby roof, he could see the path where the missle would come toward them. It was a good day for him, and would probably get better in a moment. He saw the red body of the rocket shoot toward the building, nearing its target. He closed his eyes long enough to whisper his prayers, and then opened them again. When he did, he was surprised. The missile had not hit.

 

Ari turned and watched the missile blow up in the sky. He sighed, knowing that his superiors would not be pleased at the loss of the weapon. However, they'd be more pleased with what he planned next. Leroy Jethro Gibbs had built up a reputation as an armor around himself. He was nearly invulnerable. One of his extreme weaknesses was his care for the women on his team and in his agency. If his deep scan was correct, the man had due cause, but Ari knew that it was those precious moments of weakness that would be the man's downfall.

 

Gibbs was on top of the building, his two teammates surrounding him. A fourth was down on the ground. Likely, that was the technology specialist. The two others were right beside their leader, protecting him. Deciding that the time was perfect, Ari lined up his shot, and breathed out. As he did, he pulled the trigger -- something was wrong, and the gun jerked down and sideways. That wasn't the woman. Where was the woman? He'd hit one of the men. He'd hit the loyal second-in-command, and only in the shoulder. He'd sighted for a shorter person. Where was Kate? Where was the woman? He'd have to rethink his plan entirely. He leaned over, picked up the shell with his gloved hand, and turned to set the sniper rifle on the ground in its case.

 

This whole operation was turning into a nightmare. It was time to pull back and get better intelligence.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony opened his eyes, tried to reach up to rub the grainy feeling from them, and winced. The small movement in his arm had hurt. A lot. He groaned, slowly remembering what had happened. He'd been on the rooftop next to the Boss, standing in front of him in case the shooter had decided to take his head off. Instead, Tony had been shot in the shoulder. The outer shoulder. Something about that didn't make any sense, but in the state of mind he was in, he couldn't care less. He heard a rustling sound beside him and turned his head, surprised to see the silver hair of his boss beside him.

 

"Settle down, DiNozzo," Gibbs groused beside him. "You got shot in the shoulder. They had to operate to get the bullet out." Tony knew that much. He must have said something out loud about it, for Gibbs replied. "They couldn't use the new stuff on you so soon after you'd had the problems with the plague. They had to go back to the second best anesthesia."

 

 _Oh._ That explained a lot. He closed his eyes, steeling himself for a headache. "Hurts, Boss," he rasped out, startled slightly when he felt the cold of an ice chip against his lip. He opened his mouth slightly and slid his tongue out to grab the chip. Gibbs made sure it settled on his tongue and pulled back his hand quickly. "Somethin' wrong, Boss?" He tried to sort through his thoughts, but the particular anesthesia made it difficult. "Plan worked, Boss. None of our chicks got shot." Then, he realized how he'd phrased that. "Don't tell 'em I called 'em that, please? They'd kick my butt."

 

Instead of the soft chuckle he was expecting, Tony heard his boss growl and mutter to himself. It was right on the threshold of his hearing, but he thought he heard Gibbs say, "Damn well did _not_ work."

 

"It did too," he responded, unsure if that was actually what Gibbs had said.

 

"You're lyin' here in a hospital bed, shot by that maniac, and you think the plan worked?"

 

Tony was confused. "The girls are alright, aren't they?" He tilted his head, ignoring how it made the room spin.

 

"Forget about the girls for a minute, Tony," Gibbs' voice softened a little. "They're fine." Tony nodded. He was still confused, though. Gibbs leaned back in his chair and rubbed the side of his neck, and Tony wondered what he was embarrassed about. "You know I'm signin' those damn papers next week."

 

Tony nodded again, but wondered what Gibbs' divorce papers had to do with ... a thought began to percolate inside his slow-moving mind, and he closed his eyes. "Yeah?" He hoped he wasn't making a huge error by assuming. He'd better ...

 

Before he could get so far as finishing that thought, Gibbs had set a hand on his. "Yeah. Have to do some talkin' to see how to make it work." Tony opened his eyes to see the grimace on Gibbs' face. Tony knew it wasn't from the thought of talking to him, but from the thought of talking _at all._ He snickered. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." Gibbs rolled his eyes. He leaned over and slid a finger along Tony's cheek. Tony turned into the touch, sighing contentedly. "Yeah." After a couple more moments of silence, Gibbs leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Tony's forehead. "Get some more sleep, Tony. I'll be here."

 

Slightly disgruntled that the kiss had been on his forehead instead of his lips, Tony slid into sleep, unworried about their lack of verbal communication. They'd said all they needed to say.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Tobias turned off the car and got out, instinctively checking the area around Gibbs' house. He was pretty sure nothing had happened here, but he couldn't tell, not with Gibbs. He pushed open the door and called out the man's name. "Gibbs?" He looked around, and waited for a response.

 

"Down ..." The voice seemed to cut off, and Tobias wondered why. He grinned and stepped down the dusty stairs into the basement and looked over the railing. When he did, his eyebrows rose up in surprise. DiNozzo was sitting on the stool, his bum wing tucked against him.

 

"Fornell," Gibbs greeted, grabbing one of the jars and filling it with the usual rotgut. "So?" Straight and to the point. Fornell shook his head and moved further downstairs, taking the jar from Gibbs' hands.

 

"Well, I don't know a hell of a lot. You may know as much, maybe more. The man that shot DiNozzo was Ari Haswari," he started, intentionally pronouncing the 2IC's name in the Italian way, even though he knew he didn't say it that way. "He's got a thing for you, Gibbs. A real jones." Toby could see amusement flash on the men's faces, and he quirked a brow, asking Gibbs for clarification. Gibbs just shook his head, almost imperceptibly, and Tobias sighed. "I don't know much more, Gibbs. What I do know is in ..." He reached into his jacket and pulled out the file. "...here. Don't spread it around where you got it, obviously."

 

"Well, Duh, Fornell," Gibbs snarked, though his eyes were amused at their banter. Junior's were too.

 

"Just so that's settled." Tobias knew he wouldn't share, but he had to cover the bases. They both knew that. "Good enough." He took a long draught of the bourbon and set it down. "So, what do you know, then?"

 

"We didn't see his face, but he shot with a Kate. Our Kate's outta town, so we think he hit Tony by accident." Gibbs' expression darkened. Tobias' mind was spinning. He'd seen that expression before. However, he kept his thoughts to himself.

 

"Probably a very good thing." Tony perused the file. "Looks like the guy had a bit of sniper training, Boss."

 

"Ya think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs growled. "I could tell that by the way he waited us out. Had to have been in there for ..." Between the two of them, they described the whole set-up, from the car to the shot on the roof. Tobias was impressed.

 

He just had one question. "Where was Todd?"

 

They glanced at each other for a moment, and then shrugged. "Out of town." There was something missing, he knew, but Gibbs would never say. And with DiNozzo catching his boss' silent instruction, he wouldn't find out. Because as soon as Tobias left, DiNozzo would call McGee, and from there, it'd get passed down the grapevine.

 

He had to admit, though, if it had been his guy winged, he'd close up the ranks, too.

 

He drained his glass and set it down. "Well, let me go write this out, and I'll get back to you if I hear any more."

 

"Appreciate it, Toby," Gibbs nodded. Tobias heard a lot more.

 

"Night, Gibbs. Night, DiNozzo."

 

Their responses echoed through the downstairs room as he stepped up into the house and out the door. He had a report of his own to write.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Ari heard the click that meant his listening device was picking up information. He turned up the volume on the speaker and sat back to listen, pen and paper in hand.

 

_"Fortier."_ Ari sat forward a little more, scribbling down his notes in Hebrew. His fish was calling his boss.

 

_"Yeah, Ollie, we've got a problem."_

 

_"I don't like hearing those words from you, Tobias. Especially not on a Friday night."_

 

_"Viv got you running again?"_

 

_"No, it's the kids this time. Games, plays, all those kind of things."_ Ari frowned. If they had not been so careful about what they spoke about, he could have gotten a Deputy Director of the FBI. Now, he had a little more to go with his name. However, the call was merely beginning.

 

_"Gotcha. I know exactly how that feels."_

 

_"I know you do, Tobias, which is why you'll understand this: get to the point?"_

 

_"Right, Boss."_ Tobias chuckled at his phrasing, and then moved on. _"Our problem child shot one of Gibbs' people today."_

 

_"Oh, hell. How is she?"_ Ari blinked. They assumed he'd shoot a woman? Maybe he had bee too transparent with these people.

 

“ _That’s just it, Ollie. I assume she’s okay. He shot DiNozzo.”_ DiNozzo. That meatball was Agent Gibbs’ second-in-command? He was incredulous.

 

“ _What?”_

 

“ _Yeah. That’s what I thought. So, that throws everything into ...”_

 

“ _Yeah. Why’d he pick DiNozzo?”_

 

“ _Don’t know. At least he and Gibbs -- and I assume one of his other agents -- were on the roof when the missle came by. Couldn’t have been McGee, because McGee stopped the thing.”_

 

“ _And we all thank God for that.”_ Ari snorted quietly in the privacy of his room. He did not thank God for that. Allah would have been better served had the damn thing detonated where he’d aimed it. But he waited, for the man was still speaking. _“But you didn’t answer my question. How’s DiNozzo?”_

 

“ _He’s fine. He just winged him.”_

 

Ari heard a deep sigh of relief. _“So, what’s the plan?”_

 

“ _Tempted to let the bear loose.”_ Ari could easily figure out who that was. Leroy Jethro Gibbs _was_ like a giant roaring bear.

 

“ _He’d be effective. He might tumble on to a few things in the process.”_

 

“ _At this point? I’d find that an acceptable loss.”_

 

“ _Hate that phrase Ollie.”_

 

“ _I know you do, Tobias, but it’s information, not people.”_

 

“ _Fair enough. So, we let him in on all of it?”_ Ari’s hands shook a little as he made notes. He had to take care of the man before he could come after him. He listened to see if he could get a clue about his next step.

 

“ _Yeah. I imagine with one of his own out, he’ll be even more protective. Remember how he was last month when that bitch...”_ Ari smiled. That was a brilliant plan. All it had taken was a slight whisper in the woman’s ear that she had not gotten justice for her daughter. It hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but he _had_ taken the agent out for quite a while.

 

“ _Oh, yeah. So, he’ll probably batten down the hatches and bring all the chicks close for a while.”_

 

“ _God. Your mixed metaphors are awful, Tobias.”_

 

Tobias snickered, and Ari rolled his eyes. English was such an imprecise language to begin with, and then when the Americans played with it like they did, it was no wonder they couldn’t keep their stories straight. He refocused on what Fornell was saying. _“Well, they work. Okay, so, he’ll stay at his house, and probably keep the kids there for a while.”_

 

“ _Yeah. Probably.”_

 

“ _Alright, Boss. Sorry to ruin your night. You want me to warn him?”_

 

“ _You should, yeah. It would probably be best coming from you, especially ...”_

 

“ _Especially since what, Ollie?”_

 

“ _Tell you tomorrow, Viv’s giving me the ‘eye’.”_ Ben-zoni. It seems he had nearly gotten another piece of important information. He cursed again, then listened as they bid one another farewell.

 

“ _Gotcha.”_

 

“ _Good. Night, Tobias.”_

 

“ _Night, Fortier.”_ And the call ended.

 

Ari looked over his notes, pondered what he’d heard, and began formulating a plan.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony sat on the chair they'd pulled downstairs for him, playing with the paper on his water bottle. "I'm a little antsy, Boss. I don't know what he's gonna do. And that's making me very nervous."

 

Gibbs grunted, looking over to check on him again. Tony appreciated the care, but he was getting better. He'd be out of the field for another few weeks, but most of that was making sure he got range of motion back and didn't get an infection or something. He shuddered at the thought of having to go back into the hospital.

 

Tobias had stopped by with the folder the other night, and after he left, the two men had talked of little else. They'd thrown theories back and forth, plans within plans, ideas and crazy thoughts. It wasn't the crazy time he was _hoping_ to have at the Boss' house, but he wasn't ready for anything more than light kissing. Besides, both men were keyed up and waiting for Ari Haswari to make his move.

 

Gibbs had been extremely angry to find out that Tobias knew exactly who the bastard was. He was one of their agents who'd gone rogue, and the FBI had held out for so long that Gibbs had almost tossed Fornell out of his house for good. However, between them not knowing he'd do this, and Tony calming him down, Tobias was in the clear -- for now. If he pulled another stunt like this again, Tony would be the one to throw him out. And kick his ass enough to make up for the bouncing down the highway stunt. He looked up, giving Gibbs his own visual check, and sighed again.

 

Gibbs looked up, ready to respond and probably try to calm him down when they heard the door open. Tony stepped into a shadowed corner, reaching for his revolver. No one called out Jethro's name. Everyone they knew that would have come in would have done so. He glanced over at Gibbs who was already stepping into place. They'd finally come up with a plan that would work, he thought.

 

"Agent Gibbs?" Haswari stepped into view. "This is quite a nice house you have here. I am surprised you still live here, though." The man stepped down the stairs and smiled disarmingly at him. "I hear you offer visitors something to drink."

 

Gibbs didn't say anything, merely gave Ari a look that could have killed, and pulled a jar down, filling it with some of his bourbon. Tony bit his lip to keep from chuckling. The Boss always was so cool.

 

"Ah, I have heard that about you as well. The 'strong, silent type.' Perhaps that will make it easier to do this . . . " He took the glass, draining it and setting it back down on the table. "I was fully prepared to stay away from you, you know. Your team is such an interesting group of individuals . . . " He smiled, dark and dangerous. "But, then, you discovered too much."

 

"Wasn't me." Gibbs shrugged. In typical Gibbs fashion, that was _all_ he said.

 

"Who? Caitlyn? Your profiler? Of course. She would have picked up on my mistakes. I should have killed her when I had the chance." Ari sat down on a stool, and Gibbs lifted a brow at him, curious to see what his next move would be. "However you got the information, you started to make my life much more difficult. So, for that I have to deal with you. It wasn't my first choice. My _first_ choice was for the bomb to go off. Removing a teammate was a second choice. This is third choice. I've never had to move on to third choice before, Gibbs. It's a strange feeling." Tony had hit the button on his recorder when the man had started to rant. His hand was still on his service weapon.

 

"I am surprised at your Agent Meatball. He seems more competent than I thought." Ari was baiting him now, Tony realized. Trying to get Gibbs to make the first move. It was smart, methodical, and a little scary. He glanced up toward the door and thought he saw a shadow standing there, but he wasn't sure.

 

"DiNozzo's good. Good enough to be on my team." Gibbs shrugged again. Tony knew what he wasn't saying: _I only have the best on my team._ He'd said that already to him when the drugs were making him morbid and self-deprecating.

 

"Well, you've got to have at least one softball on the team, right?" Ari tried to make a metaphor, but either didn't get the American use, or was trying something extra clever with the 'meatball' comment earlier. Tony kept his snort inside and looked down at the tape recorder on the table. It was still whirring away quietly, the sound far enough away from their dirtbag's ears that he shouldn't be able to pick it up. Ari continued, his hand finally moving to his pocket like they'd known he would. "But he's not here. Which makes _this_ possible."

 

The shadow from the doorway rustled just a little, and Tony frowned. He wanted to try to warn Gibbs that there might be a fourth person in the mix, but he couldn't do so without alerting Ari that he was there. He also wasn't sure of that person's intent. He could be a friend _or_ a foe. Ari pulled his hand out of his pocket, Beretta in it. "Agent Gibbs, I'm going to kill you now. You know entirely too much. Somehow, your team has guessed my priority list, my true affiliations," Tony could have sworn he heard a catch in the fourth person's breath, but it could've been his imagination -- it was right on the threshold of hearing, "and my intent. And for that . . . " He cocked his gun, and Tony stepped out of the shadow.

 

"You know, for a terrorist, you don't have very good situational awareness. I mean, if Agent Meatball can sneak up on you, you must be really off your game. See what I did there? I didn't mix my metaphors once. But, hey, I'll throw you a softball . . ." He paused as Ari turned and aimed the gun at him.

 

"I should have known. You all seem to travel in packs. Like hyenas." He snorted. "But even the strongest lion can get lucky." He pulled up the gun, took aim, and Tony pulled the trigger. He watched in near-slow-motion as Ari Haswari fell to the ground, eyes round with surprise, hand clutching to the hole in his chest. He heard that sharp sound again and looked up to see a gorgeous woman's face blinking back tears.

 

"I will take him home. He . . . was my brother." Tony nodded to the woman, and moved out of the way.

 

"I'm sorry that I had to do that." He pursed his lips.

 

"He was going to shoot you. You had no choice. It is all troubles under the bridge." Tony looked up at the woman at her words.

 

"Water under the bridge. Bridge over troubled water." He tilted his head, somewhat intrigued. Gibbs cleared his throat and Tony grinned at him. "Right, Boss." He sighed. "I do have to ask you who you are and why you watched from up there."

 

"I am Mossad. I was his handler. And his little sister." She blinked, trying to prevent herself from showing any emotion.

 

"We'll have to verify that, but if it comes through, you're welcome to take him home." Tony waved her down, and they began the process of cleaning up the mess, handing off the body, and tying up the paperwork.

 

* * *

"Agent Todd, I hope your time with Detective Bonasera has been profitable." Hetty sat down in MacKenna's chair and looked across the desk at Caitlyn.

 

"Yeah, Hetty, I think it's been good. I learned a lot. It explains so much about Tony, for one thing," Kate grinned. "But beyond that, it helped me figure out the process of investigations more clearly. We had some in the Secret Service, but it was a very specific bailwick, and . . . " Her voice trailed off and she looked down at her hands.

 

"You were used to having two primary goals: keep the President safe, and protect our monetary system. Admirable goals, each. However, the goal is much more nebulous in your current position. _Justice_ is not so easily defined."

 

"I'm finding that out." Caitlyn smiled ruefully, and Hetty was reminded of Kensi's smile. "Why'd you pull me away? I could have stayed there and helped out more."

 

"Indeed. And the fact that you have said that is part of why I pulled you away. You have learned enough to be getting on with. I want to teach you a few things myself." She steepled her fingers against her chin, pausing a moment. "I will teach you the basics of tradecraft. You, my dear, are an extrovert. The way that you would conduct operations is markedly different from how you may have previously thought. You just mentioned Agent DiNozzo. He is the perfect example of an extrovert with good skills." At Caitlyn's skeptical look, she continued. "Despite all the words he has spoken since you have met him, do you know much truth about his private life?"

 

"I know a lot . . ." Agent Todd spoke up, and then she paused, considering what she did know. "Huh." She smiled, a sly smile that showed promise. Hetty nodded.

 

"Precisely. Mister DiNozzo gives you carefully crafted moments. Snippets of information intended to evoke a response, rather than real, hard data."

 

"So, I have to bluff and bluster like DiNozzo?" Caitlyn sounded appropriately annoyed.

 

"No. I stated that you are an extrovert like he is. I said nothing about imitating his style. For one, you have already made that impossible by the statements you have already made. Mister DiNozzo has set himself up as a ne'er-do-well playboy, whereas you have made if clear that you are a devout woman, uninterested in such frippery."

 

Caitlyn grinned at her words, just as Hetty expected her to. "Okay, so if you didn't mean that, what _did_ you mean?"

 

"Well, my dear, that is what you shall find out." Hetty was pleased to see that the bright smile remained on Agent Todd's face.

 

She was about to open her mouth to begin explaining the basics when MacKenna strode into the room, coffee in hand. "Hetty, Gibbs called."

 

"And?" Hetty felt herself getting impatient.

 

His grin told enough of the story, but she raised a brow imperiously.

 

"He's dead. They baited him and drew him to Gibbs' house, and Tony shot him."

 

"What was Tony doing at . . ." Caitlyn began to ask, then thought better of it. "Nevermind. I don't want to know. So, should I go pack? I was kind of looking forward to those lessons with you, Hetty."

 

"Even if it were a completely technology-free world, we would discover a means to continue the training. Perhaps by correspondence. However, seeing as we have the technology . . ."

 

Somewhere in the background, Agent Hanna piped up, "we can rebuild him." Hetty rolled her eyes.

 

"We shall continue these lessons. But, you are correct." She held up one finger, looking at all the team as they started to gather. "Go pack your things. We're all headed to Washington DC to debrief and find out what's going on. The two are _not_ always the same thing."

 

"That's for sure," Agent Callen agreed before standing to get his already-packed duffel bag. It didn't take them long at all to be ready to go and loaded on the plane.


	5. Chapter 5

Kate sipped at her drink, grinning over at DiNozzo. The group had debriefed at the Navy Yard and Kate was still in shock. She had a feeling that if she had been here, she wouldn't be in very good shape. The fact that Haswari had gotten Tony instead made her kind of giddy. That, the wine in her system, and the fact that Hetty still intended to teach her a few things all combined to lift her spirits considerably. She looked over at Tony and noticed his eyes never leaving their boss. That was pretty normal, but the expression on his face wasn't. It was entirely new. She grinned a little wider, keeping that kernel of information to herself.

 

Instinctively, she turned to catch Hetty's eye. _Okay, amend that. Myself and Hetty._ That woman missed nothing. She took another sip of her wine and then spoke. "You couldn't resist getting shot, DiNozzo? What, did you step into it like you did with that letter?"

 

"Yeah, Katie, I intentionally wore my reflective gear so that the bastard could shoot me." Their teasing was something normal. The rest of the evening had been strange.

 

"Did you know that Gibbs knew Taylor?" Kate asked him, in a hissed whisper.

 

"No. I didn't know. I kind of assumed, though, considering they were both in and 'over there' at the same time. I mean, there was a chance there'd be _some_ connection. But yeah, they know each other." Tony wasn't as quiet, and Gibbs turned to him, flashing a quick smile that nearly blinded Kate.

 

"When did . . ." She started to ask, then thought better of it.

 

"When did _what,_ Katie?" Tony caught her false start anyway, and his curiosity wouldn't let him drop it.

 

"When did you start . . .? She cocked her head toward Gibbs, hoping that was clear enough. Luckily, it was.

 

"While you were off playing maiden in the castle." Tony leaned back, settling his hand on Gibbs' shoulder, mostly to get a response, though Kate understood the action. Gibbs turned, eyebrow quirked, and Tony just grinned at him. He gave a softer smile back, and Kate shook her head.

 

"You're gonna have to be careful, Tony. That was pretty obvious."

 

"You know us." But even as he said something, Callen's brows lifted, and he whispered something to Sam. "Yeah, okay. I see what you mean. But it's still so new."

 

"It's harder then," she agreed.

 

That set Tony to laughing, and Kate could feel herself blush. Her only response was to reach over and slug him in the arm.

 

Tony opened his mouth to say something else, probably something more incriminating, and Hetty clinked her spoon against her glass. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have an announcement to make. Agent Gibbs and I have decided to inform you tonight so that you will not be surprised when we get to the Yard again tomorrow. Director Morrow has stepped down, and his replacement has been chosen. He's quite young for the position, but I believe it will be good for him."

 

"Leon's decent," Gibbs chimed in.

 

"Indeed. Our new director is former Deputy Director Leon Vance. There was talk of promoting another agent, but between the recent kerfuffle with our female agents and a health problem, the agent in question was passed over." Kate was watching Gibbs' face, and his lips were thin and tight, like that agent was someone important to him. She wondered what the story was there, but figured she would probably never find out.

 

"Vance'll be good for us. Might shake things up a bit," Gibbs allowed. "But he'll keep us goin'."

 

"Every new director has shaken things up a bit, Agent Gibbs. I foresee much less 'shaking' from him than even from his predecessor. But perhaps that was before your time?" Hetty smirked over at Gibbs, and he shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "Now, having said that, I will say thank you to MacKenna and our New York friends, and I shall also be sure to send Agent Pride a note as well. We appreciate your cooperation with our crazy plan."

 

"Well, Hetty," Mac said, his words drawn out as he thought about what he wanted to say. "It was a pleasure to have you all in town. It helped us solve a few cases, and we got to see a side of investigative work we don't often see."

 

"Well, we got to see another side, too, Mac, so, it goes both ways." Sam piped up, waving off the thanks. "Besides, you don't wanna see these two when they get bored." He gestured to G and Deeks, and they looked up, affronted. Kate laughed, having seen exactly that.

 

"Sam's right, you know," she said teasingly.

 

"I don't mind as long as he includes himself in that list." G replied. "You know what SEALs do when they get bored, right?"

 

"Oooh, I know," Tony grinned. "Does it involve a rubber ball?" Sam glared over at the other agent, and everybody laughed.

 

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am going to call it a night. I shall see all of you in the morning." Everyone offered Hetty their 'goodnights', and the party broke up.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jo rubbed her eyes as she waited for Mac and Hetty to finish talking. She'd had a good time with Kate, and wanted to keep up with her. Honestly, Jo could use some of the techniques the NCIS agent used in profiling her suspects. Jo knew more about the inside of a lab than the actual investigative process, and it was nice to have someone in the business but not from her department to talk to, to sound crazy ideas off of.

 

Kate strolled over, looking fresh. Jo just had to pick on her for that. "Hey! How is it you look so good after drinking so much last night? I'm still hung over."

 

"The DiNozzo Defibrillator."

 

"Doesn't your boss have a rule about that?" Jo asked, somewhat confused.

 

"Oh, no. No. Not _that._ " A strange expression crossed Kate's face, and Jo was immediately curious. She tilted her head, and waited, but all that Kate said was "Killer cure. It's kind of gross, but it sure gets rid of a hangover. It's a family recipe, apparently."

 

"Huh. Well, I'll have to see if I can wrangle the recipe out of him." Jo grinned, and Kate grinned right back.

 

"Maybe you could. I haven't had a lot of success with it." Kate shrugged. "But I'm his teammate. Be warned: he might want to take you out on a date."

 

Jo considered it. She tilted her head, gazing over at the other man. "I might have to think about that."

 

"You do that," Kate laughed. "Listen, Jo, I'd . . . Uh, I'd like to keep in contact with you." She reached into her purse and grabbed a card. "Here's my number here, and . . ." She turned the card over and wrote down her private cell phone number. "That's my direct line."

 

"Oh, sweet." Jo grinned again, and pulled out a card of her own, doing the same. "We can text and talk about how much our bosses are being hardasses."

 

"We'd better not. We'd be on the phone all day long." Kate snorted, then jumped as a large hand deftly smacked her on the back of the head. "Good morning, Gibbs, we were just talking about you." Kate took it in stride.

 

"So I heard," the agent replied, dryly. She looked over at him, and saw that he was amused.

 

"You just kinda proved my point, Agent Gibbs," Jo said, chuckling. The two women swapped cards, and Jo slid Kate's into her wallet. She could program the number into her cell when she was waiting for the airplane.

 

"I think Taylor's ready for you," Gibbs nodded his head toward Mac.

 

"Wasn't sure if he was done talking to Hetty yet." Jo looked, and they were still talking.

 

"Man'll talk her ear off if you let him." Gibbs grinned.

 

"I heard that, Jethro," Mac called. "Just because you're a functional mute doesn't mean that the rest of us are."

 

Gibbs just jerked his head again. Jo gave Kate a quick hug, and then walked over to where Mac and Hetty were standing.

 

"Ah, Josephine. I do believe it is almost time for you to leave for the airport." Hetty smiled up at her, and Jo held out her hand.

 

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Hetty." Jo shook it.

 

Hetty pulled her in for a perfunctory hug. "Likewise, my dear." She smiled, and Jo felt her cheeks flush. "Now, go on, or you shall be late. That always makes things more challenging. "

 

"Yes, Ma'am." Jo assented. She shouldered her bag and joined the rest of her team, waving goodbye over her shoulder as she went.

 

* * *

 

 

Gibbs lost himself in the movement of the sandpaper against the wood. He relished the quiet moment. He was fairly certain they wouldn't last for long. However, instead of making him angry or upset like it would have before, he allowed himself a smile. Tony was coming over again, and he was bringing food.

 

"Hey, Jethro, got you the Thai you like. Little spicier than I like it, but it fits, because . . ."

 

"Don't say it, DiNozzo," Gibbs mock-warned.

 

"Damn, you're hot." Gibbs rolled his eyes, but he grinned in spite of himself. Tony was good for him, and they were finding something together. That was something he didn't expect.

 

Tony set the food down, and came over to greet him with a smile and a soft kiss on the cheek. "Hell of a month, Boss."

 

Gibbs grunted. December had been rough on them. However, it was almost Christmas Day, and he actually had a reason to celebrate. "Glad you're here, Tony." He set the sandpaper down on a nearby table. "You get forks?"

 

"Definitely. You know I can't use chopsticks, and I'm not even sure you're supposed to eat Pad Thai with chopsticks."

 

"Eat _everything_ with chopsticks over there, DiNozzo."

 

"Oh, okay. That makes sense." Tony continued to ramble about cases, the situation with Ari, and all sorts of other things as they ate. He kept glancing over at Gibbs, seeming to need to make sure that he was still there.

 

"Everything alright, Tony?" Gibbs asked, his voice soft.

 

"Yeah, Gibbs, why?" He set his fork down.

 

"You keep glancin' over at me like you're expecting me to disappear or give you a headslap."

 

Tony snorted. "No, that's not it at all." He sighed, setting his mostly-empty container of food aside. "I'm just thinking about . . ."

 

"Spit it out." Gibbs set his own food down, ready for some wild tangent that would lead to what Tony really wanted to say.

 

"I'd rather show you." Tony stood, stepping closer, and Gibbs welcomed him.

 

His lips pressed against Gibbs' just as the radio started to play "Silver Bells." After all they'd been through, Gibbs figured it was a pretty damn good place to be.


End file.
